


Heads or Tails?

by hellosweetie17



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Literary References & Allusions, Love, Love Stories, Original Character(s), Romance, Romantic Gestures, Stargazing, Vegetables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8602036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17/pseuds/hellosweetie17
Summary: Due to the insistence of her best friend, Max, Clara agrees to go out on a date with an astronomer called Doc in an effort to make her exboyfriend jealous. She hadn't expected to fall in love with the man.





	1. As you wish.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monkiainen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkiainen/gifts).



> * **I don't own or profit** from any of the quotes listed as chapter titles and their citations and references are listed in the beginning notes of each chapter. They are for entertainment purposes only.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"As you wish."_ — Westley, _The Princess Bride_

**Present Day**

The cool autumn breeze blew through the shedding trees, carrying the vibrant leaves along with it; the gusts led them in a lazy, yet elegant, waltz across the park's lawn. A young woman laughed as she ran through the dancing foliage towards her destination. A large red ovate leaf tagged along in her long chestnut brown hair as she whizzed by. Once she was close enough to her target, she launched herself at the tall blond man, wrapping her arms around his neck. He swung her around in a circle and her legs flew in the air; her cheerful laugh echoing. After a few more twirls, he put her down.

"Is someone happy to see me?" he asked as he plucked the leaf from her hair. Doc threw it into the air, letting the chilly wind carry it away.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Clara replied, innocently batting her eyelashes. Doc attempted to scowl, but the playful twinkle in his blue eyes betrayed him.

"Anyway..." Doc began, clearing his throat, "A present for you, my lady," he dramatically bowed, handing her his romantic gesture.

Clara quirked an eyebrow. "A celery stalk? I really think you're trying to tell me something here," she said as she took the vegetable.

"Nonsense. It's a beautiful...flower?...for a beautiful lady!" He grabbed her hand and placed a chaste kiss on the knuckles. Clara felt her cheeks warm with a light pink hue. The color deepened when he winked and flashed a boyish, charming grin.

"Nice save," admitted Clara. Doc, not having let go of her hand, pulled her in and wrapped his arm around her waist; he began to dance, paying no mind to the spectators milling around them in the park.

"What should we do today?" he asked, dipping her.

"Hmm..." Clara replied, their noses brushing together as he held her in their dance's deep dip. "We can always flip for it." She blushed as Doc ghosted his lips along hers. The blond tilted his head to the side of her cheek and pressed his lips against her ear.

"Heads or tails?" he whispered.


	2. Love is the voice under all silences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Love is the voice under all silences."_ \- E.E Cummings, _"being to timelessness as it’s to time"_

**6 weeks ago**

It was early morning and Clara stood there with a giant bowl tucked in her elbow, mixing red velvet batter. An angry sound escaped her lips as the tinkering sound of the metal whisk banging against the bowl escalated. The faster she blended, the tighter she squeezed the utensil. The palms of her hands began to burn and her knuckles cracked with each rotation of her wrist. Judging by the abuse Clara was inflicting on the innocent batter, she was _pissed_.

The young baker's mind began to wander as she proceeded to over beat the mixture, destroying it in the process.

"How dare that tart show her face in my shop! Long legs, blond hair, and everything. The nerve. Maybe a couple of eggs to the face will teach her a thing or two." Clara let out an agitated huff. "And to think Jason..." Her already aching hand tightened around the whisk's handle.

Clara's brown eyes narrowed and zeroed in on the stove, as thoughts of her ex infiltrated her mind; she willed it to magically set the jerk on fire. Annoyance flooded her veins once it was obvious the oven was not going to cooperate with her revenge.

Suddenly, the loud snap of a handle brought her back from the reveries of murder. Clara looked down at the broken whisk. "Ugh! Not again," she groaned, setting the demolished mixing tool and batter on the silver counter top. She put a hand on her forehead, the other on her hip, and began to pace back and forth, breathing deeply as she did so.

At that moment, Max strolled into the bakery's kitchen, the swinging door slamming behind him. The man sighed at the sight of his best friend ambling back and forth. He walked over to the counter and looked at the bowl, staring at its annihilated contents; he tsked under his breath and took the bowl over to the trash.

"Honey, you need to stop doing this," Max chided over his shoulder, dumping the ruined batter and whisk into the trash. Clara jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Didn't see you there, mate," Clara gasped with her hand over her pounding heart. She hated it when Max snuck up on her like that.

The young woman swallowed thickly and tucked a bit of her brown hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I know. But I get so angry every time that blue eyed, blond hair, long-legged tart stops by. I swear. It's like she's trying to rub everything in my face!"

Max took the dirty bowl over to the sink and ran some water over it. He walked back to the fuming Clara, putting his hands on her shoulders and looked into her frustrated brown eyes, "it's been like three months. You need to get over the loser and go have fun!"

Clara looked at him, a skeptical expression on her face, "And how am I supposed to have fun when snobs one and two always manage to make some sort of scene when they walk into the shop? I'm telling you, all those snogs are just to make me jealous or something."

A mischievous smile spread across the redhead's face, "You can always return the message; mess with his head, make him remember how amazing you are." Clara rolled her eyes.

"Phfft," she waved the words away. "How am I suppose to make Jason jealous if he already thinks I'm not good enough for him?" Clara walked towards the silver table and propped her elbows on it, her chin in her hands. "A simple baker like me isn't classy enough for the high status lawyer image," she grumbled. She let out a huff, blowing the stray hair from her face.

______________________________

_Jason stood before her, trying to plead his case. As if there was any hope in justifying his actions to the woman whose heart he had broken._

_"I'm sorry, Clara, but I think it's time we see other people. I want to have a successful career and status, but I don't think you can handle it."_

_Once motionless, Clara started to pace back and forth, hot tears streaming down her flush cheeks. She refused to look at him, she wouldn't grant him the satisfaction in seeing her red nosed and ruined mascara._

_"But Rachel is classy enough for you, yeah?"_

______________________________

Max jutted his hip out, placing his hand on it. "Jason's a dumbass. All we have to do is find you a nice bloke to have fun with."

"Eh, I would feel guilty doing something like that."

"Hmm... Well, we can find someone and if it makes Jason jealous, then so be it," he replied.

Clara sighed, "You're not gonna give up, are you?"

"Nope!" Max grinned, knowing he won the battle.

"Fine. I'll put myself out there." She held up a warning finger, "but not to make Jason jealous! Well, if he does then that'll be bonus."

"Yes!" he whooped and ran over to where she stood, grabbing her into a big hug. Clara laughed.

"You are bad. I really don't know how your wife puts up with you," she pointed out, returning the hug.

"Sasha is worse than me. Where do you think I get it?" he asked, letting his friend go.

"I have no idea. Hell, maybe?"

"Ha. Ha." Max stuck out his tongue, then glanced down at his watch. "We better get moving. It's almost time to open," he grinned, slapping Clara on her bottom; she yelped in return. "Oh, and let's not ruin any more batter," he added.

______________________________

  
Once 10:00 AM came around, the sign on the front entrance of the shop was flipped over—Sweet Dreams Bakery was open for business.

______________________________

  
After a few hours of boredom, a ring of the bell above the shop door filled the air and a steady stream of people walked into the bakery. The baker stood by the register and displays, ready to greet new and regular customers. A little girl with strawberry-blond hair braided into two fishtail braids on either side of her head ran up to the counter.

"Miss Clara!" the little girl squealed, pure delight sparkling from her green eyes.

"Penelope," Clara replied, smiling at Penny from across the counter.

"Guess what happened."

"Hmm..." Clara wrapped her arm across her chest, tucking her hand under her other arm. She shifted her weight to one leg, resuming a 'thinking' pose. She tapped her chin, "No idea."

"Oh, come on," Penny huffed, rolling her eyes as if what happened was completely obvious.

"Go on, tell me," urged Clara.

"I got all A's on my exams!"

"Alright!" Clara whooped, leaning over the counter with her palm in the air. "Gimme high five!" Penny happily slapped her hand against the baker's. "This means we must celebrate. Pick a cupcake!" Clara winked at the little girl's mother. "On the house."

"Really?" Penny gasped.

"Really!" She walked over to the display case and slid open its door.

"Hmm," the little girl hummed as if the choice of cupcake were the most important decision in the world. "I want the peanut butter one!"

"Definitely my favorite," Clara smiled as she grabbed the cupcake. She hastily put it in a little to-go box and handed it to Penny.

"Go enjoy, love."

"Thanks, Miss Clara," Penny waved as she walked out the door, hand in hand with her mom.

Time blurred by as a multitude of her regulars trickled in and out the store. After repeatedly seeing the same friendly people, her grin widened when a fresh face approached the register.

"Hi! Haven't see you around before. What can I get you?" She greeted the stranger.

"I'm new to the area," he replied, looking at the giant menu on the wall. "I would like Earl-Grey tea, please."

"Sure! If you take a seat, I'll bring it over to you," offered the baker, pointing at the many small tables and chairs spread throughout the shop. The tall man gave her a small, bashful smile and walked to a table by the window. He sat down and pulled a book out of his bag.

Clara turned around to head towards the refreshment area, but smacked into someone's chest, nearly jumping out of her skin. She looked up only to find her so-called best friend staring down at her with his up-to-no-good smirk. "You're trying to kill me," she scowled, pushing him out of the way. Max trailed behind her.

"Can't let you die. Who's going to go shopping with me?" the redheaded troublemaker pouted.

"Uh, your wife, maybe? The woman who is living with you?"

"Phfft," Max waved his hand, "you know Sasha and I have different tastes." He walked alongside the young woman, leaning his hip against the counter next to the tea station and crossed his arms. "Anyway, this isn't about my dark-haired beauty. It's about you," he added.

"What about me?" Clara asked as she prepared the warm beverage.

"Well, there's a man sitting over there by the window," Max pointed out, tilting his head in the man's direction.

Clara looked over her shoulder and lifted up her eyebrows. "There's a customer sitting over there. Your point?"

"There's your man!" her friend squealed with delight. Clara turned to face him, putting a hand on her hip.

"Alright, let's say for some stupid reason I agree to this," Clara risked a brief glance towards the window. The man had a head full of light, feathery blond hair peppered with dark gray, and blue eyes hidden behind black bulky frames. She looked back at Max with a small frown and leaned over, whispering, "He's a bit old, yeah?"

Max rolled his eyes, "So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? He has to be around 35, looks shy, and probably doesn't want anything to do with a young, plain thing like me."

The sound of a whistle indicated that the water was hot enough to make the customer's order. Clara put a tea bag in a ceramic teapot and put it on a tray along with a tea cup and saucer. She picked it up and turned around to escape from the maniac behind her, but nearly stumbled on her heels—Max had pushed her.

"Go get him, honey!" Max grinned and winked at her. Clara glared a glare that would make the devil himself cry. He waved enthusiastically in reply, ignoring the promise of his murder. She walked through the endless chatter floating around her beloved patrons towards the bashful man sitting by the window, looking at the fall leaves dancing in the wind.

Clara stopped short of her destination. With one hand, she quickly, yet nonchalantly, smoothed out her skirt and pushed a lock of her brown hair behind her ear. She took a deep breath and resumed her journey.

"Here you go," Clara flashed a wide smile as she placed the order on the little table. She must have pulled him away from his thoughts for he nearly jumped sky high; his knee hit the underside of the table, the teacup and saucer rattling on the tray. He looked at her with wide blue eyes, slightly hissing with pain through a grimace.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," she swiftly apologized, her cheeks brightening with color.

"It's no matter. We all have our clumsy moments," he assured her, looking up with a small smile.

Clara took a small step back. "I'll make it up to you. Here, let me get you something on the house." She turned around and fought the urge to run back to the counter. Behind the cupcake display, she could see Max laughing. Clara decided that he'll be dead by the end of the day. Sorry, Sasha.

The brunette ducked behind the display and scowled at her ex-friend. "I. Hate. You," she seethed in a harsh whisper. Clara calmly, but angrily, opened the back of the display and snatched out a newly invented cupcake, placing it on a small plate along with a napkin and dessert fork.

"You can't live without me," Max muttered, holding back another laugh.

"Are you sure of that?" the young woman grumbled. Max ignored her words.

"Go away. You have a man waiting over there for you," Max ordered, moving his arms in a shooing motion.

Clara quickly made her way back over to the blond man's table. "Here you go! New recipe," she announced, placing the dessert next to the teacup. "Take a bite."

He smiled at her as he picked the treat up, removing part of the liner. "Looks great," he said, thanking the baker.

Clara smiled brightly, watching and waiting for him take a giant bite of the dessert. "It's a lemon cupcake with whipped cream made with rose—" Her description was cut off as she gasped, covering her mouth to muffle a sound akin to an unattractive combination of a snort and laugh.

The man sniffed the cream before he had taken a bite. His face scrunched and he let out a powerful sneeze, the force of it making his face and glasses collide with the whipped cream. He looked up at Clara, his face and glasses covered with icing. Clara's mouth dropped open.

"Oh my god," the young woman whimpered. The man took off his glasses and she could see a light blush on his cheeks. She put out her hands to touch him as if she were checking for additional injuries. The customer simply stared at her, embarrassment apparent on his face.

"I'm so, so sorry! Come with me," Clara grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet; he almost stumbled over his shoes. She quickly dragged him to the employee restroom, taking great care to hide the mess on the man's face.

They entered the restroom and went directly to the sink. Clara grabbed a handful of paper towels, drenching them under the warm tap water. With slightly shaky hands, she gingerly wiped the mess from his face.

"Was that sneeze a subtle hint about my cupcakes?" she teased with a small smile, hopefully lightening the awkward situation.

Her victim's cheeks warmed.

"N-no," He stuttered, "I could smell the rosemary." He cleared his throat, his already warm cheeks darkening as Clara continued to wipe his face clean. "I'm allergic to rosemary," he added.

"Well, no more lemon rosemary cupcakes for you, yeah?"

"I suppose you're right," he agreed, laughing lightly.

A few moments later, Clara had finished cleaning the customer's face. She threw away the soiled paper towels and proceeded to wash her hands; he, on the other hand, ran his glasses under the water and dried them with his shirt. Clara turned and held out a hand in front of her.

"I'm Clara Oswin Oswald," she introduced herself. "I own the bakery."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Clara. I'm Doc," he replied.

She lifted her eyebrows, "And does Doc have a last name?"

He smiled warmly at her, a little mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. "Just call me Doc."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Alright, 'Mr. Just call me Doc'," she said, shaking his hand.

"I really am sorry. First I frighten you, then I almost kill you. I'm not in the habit of doing such things," Clara promised.

"As I said before, we all have our clumsy moments."

"Do it," Max's voice chimed into her thoughts. She internally grimaced, astounded that she agreed to put up with that fool's antics.

"I can make it up to you," Clara offered, smiling. "Buy you a cup a coffee?"

"Oh!" Doc's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He stuffed a hand in his pants pocket, frantically looking for something. Clara opened her mouth to respond to whatever he was doing, but she was cut off.

Doc pulled out a 10p, "Here we go!"

"A coin?" Her eyebrows furrowed with suspicion.

"Heads, or tails?" Doc asked, grinning brightly, his eyes shining.

"Hmm... Tails?"

Clara watched as the 10p was flipped in the air before landing on Doc's palm. He quickly slapped his palm onto the back of his other hand and peeked at the results. A grin spread across his face. For some reason, the happy go lucky look made the tips of her ears blossom.

"Coffee it is!" he declared. He took her hand again, shaking it vigorously. "I'll be seeing you soon, Miss Clara." He turned towards the door, pushing it open before Clara's voice stopped him.

"Which side did the coin land on?" called Clara.

Doc shrugged his shoulders. "Heads."


	3. The heart was made to be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"The heart was made to be broken."_ \- Oscar Wilde, _De Profundis_

**5 weeks ago**

The end of the work day finally came and the bliss of silence permeated the bakery. However, the serenity didn't last long: Max. The loud shrill of his ecstatic squeal made Clara's ears bleed; she winced at the noise. How a grown man of Max's age could make such a sound, she would never know. The young baker prayed she would never have to hear anything like it again. Deep down, she knew that prayer was in vain. He hopped and skipped about as she was at the sink, cleaning the array of bowls and pans: the only one who was actually doing their job.

"Mmm, girl! I still can't believe you actually asked him out," Max whooped, triumphantly. He skipped over to the sink and leaned against it.

"I didn't ask him out. I asked him if he'd like to get a cup of coffee since I embarrassed him," she muttered, scrubbing the bowl in her hands with renewed vigor.

"Still counts," he countered, stubbornly.

The brunette rolled her eyes, but a subtle smirk curved at the side of her mouth. Ever so slowly, she scooped a handful of the soapy bubbles to flick in Max's face. There he stood, mouth agape, hands flying to the top of his head to wipe off the bubbles. "Watch the hair!" he whined, horrified that his masterpiece was ruined.

"Sorry, mate," the baker snorted. "That's what you get for torturing me all day."

"I can't believe you'd sink so low as to go for my hair. You're lucky I love you," retorted Max, scowling as he turned to get cleaning supplies.

"The faster you work, the faster you'll be able to fix it," Clara's grin widened as she called over her shoulder in a sing-song voice. The redhead waved her words away, stomping to the broom closet.

Silence filled the kitchen once again. Only the rush of water could be heard as it poured over dirty dishes and the occasional spray of cleaning solution squirted on countertops. An hour later, the pair completed their work and both of them let out an exhausted sigh.

"When are you two meeting for coffee?" he asked, wiping away the sweat from his forehead.

Clara, standing on a step stool, had been putting away the cooking supplies in the cabinet above her. She looked over at Max with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Uh... Actually, I have no idea." She hopped down and walked over to her friend. Oswald crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the table. "I didn't even think about it. He hasn't stopped in since last week. Do you think he'll be back?" She nervously chewed on her lip.

"Of course he will, honey." Max put his hands on her shoulders, giving them an affectionate rub. "It gives him another chance to see you! He's lucky to be able to spend time with you."

Clara hung her head and placed a hand on her forehead. "You think so? What if this was a mistake?" she groaned. She lifted her head to look up at her friend with unsure eyes. Max pulled her into a hug, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

"Definitely not. Am I ever wrong?" he asked, swaying them back in forth in their tight embrace.

"Yes," came Clara's muffled voice. She yelped when she felt a pinch to her butt.

______________________________

The week passed by at an agonizing rate. The young baker impatiently waited for any sign of Doc, whether he be walking passed the giant window at the front of the shop, or the tinkling of the bell announcing his arrival. Each day she grew more disappointed and, quite frankly, a bit hurt.

There were only a few minutes left until Clara could lock the door, signaling the end of a stressful work day. Her back was turned towards the door when it opened with a tinkling sound. Inside, her thoughts were torn between a groan and a flutter of hope. She listened to the stiletto heels clicking on the floor and the groan had won. An intense frown battered her cheeks, but she was forced to turn it into the best smile she could manage. Clara turned to greet her worst nightmare.

"Hey, Rachel. What can I get you?" Oswald chirped. Her brown eyes did a quick once-over of the enemy. She was clad in a black, strapless, classy dress and high white stiletto heels. Whatever she was dressed for, it must've been some sort of event. Clara was ashamed to admit that she was jealous of the adversary's beauty.

"Good evening, Clara," Rachel responded as she flipped her long blond hair over her bare shoulder. She walked over to the now sparsely filled cupcake display. She paced back and forth, tapping her red painted nails on the glass as she contemplated about which one to choose. The sound made Clara's eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

"Hmm..." Rachel hummed. Clara knew whatever the woman was doing, it would include rubbing something in her face. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but can you get me a cupcake that's full of carbs? Jason and I attended this extraordinary dinner party that included plenty of dancing. I need to keep up my energy for the rest of the night...if you know what I mean," she winked and smirked suggestively. Yup, there it was.

 _Tart_.

Clara smiled brightly. "I know just the thing," she stated and walked over to the display. She pulled out a root beer float cupcake and wrapped it in the little blue box with 'Sweet Dreams Bakery' etched on the lid in silver ink. She walked back to the register and handed it to Rachel. "Here you go. Enjoy!"

_Get. Out._

"Thanks, Clara. You're such a doll." Rachel paid the baker. "I'll tell Jason you said hi," she added over her shoulder as she strutted out the entrance.

______________________________

_Clara strolled out from the bakery kitchen carrying a tray of freshly made desserts, the warm smell of cupcakes in the oven trailing behind her. She placed them on top of the display case, careful not to bump the tray. The baker slid open the back of the display and began restocking the quickly dwindling supply of her beloved cupcakes. As she was transferring the delectable treats, the bell above the door sounded to signal an customer._

_Flirtatious laughter met Clara's ears as she was bent behind the case. She stood up and was prepared to greet the patrons, but stopped. Jason and Rachel were slowly walking up to the register, making a show of themselves: their arms wrapped around one another, kissing, and giggling erratically. The theatrics made Clara groan. Thankfully they composed themselves by time they made it to where she stood._

_"Hello, Clara," Jason greeted as Rachel smiled down on her._

_"Hey guys, what can I get you?"_

_Jason looked over at the long-legged blonde strapped to his hip, "what are you in the mood for, love?"_

_"Hmm...can you give us a minute to decide, Clara?" Rachel asked._

_Clara watched the two walk hip-to-hip along the display cases. Jason would lean into Rachel, whispering something into her ear that caused her to laugh hysterically. The giggling escalated when Jason started to plant little kisses along Rachel's neck, making his way up to her lips. Clara's eyes started to water as she watched the two of them play, yet she managed to hold back the tears._

______________________________

Once she was sure the woman was gone, Clara raced to the door to flip the lock. Leaning back against it, she slumped over with her eyes steadied on the floor and let out a sigh.

______________________________

With an exhausted moan, Clara stepped through the front door of her flat and immediately kicked off her shoes. The heels were followed by her coat—shrugged from her shoulders and dropped carelessly to the floor. She thought nothing of it, or the clutter she passed on her way to the lone bedroom where she plopped down on the mattress; hair fanning out around her on the plush pillow. Groaning, she lazily stretched to turn on the lamp settled on the nightstand.

A clear princess phone sat next to the lamp, gazing at her in temptation. She contemplated calling Max, to discuss her final customer of the day, to repeat all of the things she had spoken of for the past three months. For some reason, it still bothered her. Could it be she wasn't over Jason? Or, was she truly upset by how rude the two of them were? She convinced herself it was the latter, but it did nothing to ease any bitterness. Picking up the receiver, she listened to the tone before setting it back down. Her problems could wait until tomorrow, she thought. The redhead deserved a day off, both from the shop and her complaints.

Heaving another groan, Clara chose to do nothing, but change into a pair of comfortable pajamas. Normally, the young woman brushed her teeth faithfully before going to bed. Rebelling against her routine, she crawled underneath her multicolored quilt and turned off the lamp.


	4. I was half in love with her by the time we sat down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down."_ \- J.D. Salinger, _The Catcher in the Rye_

**5 weeks ago**

Yet another day went by at the shop. A mass of customers flowed in and out of the door, the bell ringing each time someone entered or exited. It was a nice distraction since Clara intended to talk to Max about her encounter with Rachel, but she couldn't bring herself to confide in him. Thoughts of the wretched woman had already worn out her brain, but at least the bakery gave her a reprieve from the situation. Albeit grateful, she still wished there was something to toss her thoughts out of the figurative window, never to return again.

The bell ringing above the entrance signaling another patron was lost on the baker's ears. She hadn't realized anyone entered the shop until a loud thump came from the counter, nearly sending her through the roof. Quickly, Clara composed herself by smoothing out the front of her skirt and put on a bright smile to greet the customer.

"Welcome to Sweet—" She turned to recite the ritual welcome, but her words trailed off. The sunny smile plastered in her features turned into a slight frown. Hopefully, the change of her demeanor was unnoticeable. "Look who's back. I'm surprised to see you here."

"Surprised?" Doc lifted a brow.

"Well...you kind of stood me up, yeah?"  the young woman stated. She mentally kicked herself at the minuscule amount of bitterness that laced her voice.

"I didn't stand you up," he retorted, "You were the one who offered to buy me coffee, remember?" Doc added, a teasing smile spread across his face, eyes sparkling with humor. Clara wanted to give him a black eye. Doc must've seen the murderous look on her face for he swiftly spoke again. "But! I have brought us coffee," he added, showing her the thermos, "When you're ready, we'll head off."

"Gimme a sec to get my coat." Clara nonchalantly walked through the kitchen door, but as soon as it closed, she ran towards Max who was mixing cream cheese icing.

"He's here!" she whispered.

"And what are you doing in the kitchen?" the man asked. "Honey, get out of here!"

Oswald's body fidgeted from head to toe. "How do I look?" She looked down at herself, nervously smoothing out her skirt again.

"You look beautiful," her friend reassured with a smile. "If you stay here one more second, you'll be covered in icing."

The brunette ran fingers through her hair and readjusted her outfit one last time before turning on the heel of her shoes. "Wish me luck!"

On her way out of the kitchen door, she grabbed her red peacoat and pulled it on, accompanied by a pair of blue gloves. "Alright, let's go," she smiled, walking around the counter to join the man.

Doc put out his arm for her to grab, which she happily did. "Let's go," he agreed, leading them out the door.

Outside, the autumn wind was crisp and refreshing. The breeze whipped through her hair, tickling her neck and cheeks; she tucked the wayward brown locks behind her ears. Clara could feel the cool breeze tingeing her nose a rosy pink.

Dusk settled across the area. The only illumination brightening their pathway was provided by various shops and street lamps along the sidewalks.

For long minutes they walked in silence; as time passed, they travelled closer to a place filled with darkness, the inkiness so black, the stars were bright enough to light their way.

They continued up a giant hill. Clara could feel the crunch of the dying leaves under her shoes with each step up the incline. Once they made it to the top of the hill, Doc stopped and let go of her arm. They were in a large clearing and under a cloudless, brightly lit night sky. It was quite beautiful.

Doc put down the thermos full of hot coffee and pulled out the black and red checkered blanket that was tucked under his arm. He unfolded it and spread it across the ground. Sitting down, he motioned for Clara to join him. As she made herself comfortable, he removed the lid from the thermos and poured the warm brew into two travel cups: one for himself and one for Clara.

"This is great," Clara nodded in thanks. She took a sip of the warm brew, thankful for the steam that warmed her cheeks. She glanced at the man sitting next to her; his sunny, blond hair was wind blown and stuck up in various places. Much like hers, his cheeks were flush with cold. The young woman studied him, taking in his boyish and happy-go-lucky features. She had to admit that he was quite attractive despite obviously being older than her. Doc turned to face her. His usually bright blue eyes looked like the deepest ocean's blue and a puzzled glint filled them. The look he gave her made a realization dawn on her: she was staring like a creeper. Oswald managed to cover up the coffee that threatened to spill from her nose with a feign cough.

"Are you alright over there?" he asked, pouring himself a cup.

"Yes I'm alright," she responded, letting out a little 'cough' again. Clara took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "So...what are we doing out here?"

"We're having coffee," he cheerfully quipped, "Would you like a piece of celery?" Doc pulled out a small green stalk from a little container and held it in offering. Clara looked over the rim of the cup.

"Are you hinting that I need to lose weight?" she teased, taking the vegetable.

The man's face blossomed an impressive shade of scarlet and he nearly spat out the sip of coffee he had just taken.

"N-no!" he stuttered. Doc fumbled through the knapsack he had brought along and quickly dug out a small jar of peanut butter. "I brought along snacks..."

Clara's eyes widened at his reaction. She couldn't help but choke back a laugh. "I was joking!" She quickly snatched the jar from his hand, opening it and scooped up a bit of the spread with the celery and took a bite. After chewing, she chased it with a sip of coffee. "You're lucky I like peanut butter," she said, flashing a reassuring smile.

"I'm think you enjoy torturing me, Miss Oswald," surmised Doc, giving her a sideways glance and a small smirk.

"You're making it too easy to do it, mate," she pointed out. "Please call me 'Clara'. I'm not a spinster, you know."

"You're not?" Cheeky.

"Please don't make me kill you. It's hard to hide a body in such a wide clearing," Clara dramatically sighed.

Doc let out an airy chuckle and grabbed her hand, "Forgive me, Winny," he charmingly pleaded, pressing a soft kiss on her gloved knuckles. Clara could feel the skin under her covered hand scorching where his lips touched to fabric. Why? She hadn't the faintest idea.

Clara's eyebrows shot to the sky. "Winny?"

"Get over it," he firmly replied, winking as he did so. The young woman rolled her eyes.

"Does this mean I get to call you 'Old Man'?"

"You wound me."

"Anyway..." Clara paused to take a sip of her coffee, "Besides having coffee, what are we doing here?"

Doc scooped out a bit of peanut butter and took a bite of the celery. He chewed for a few minutes, pondering on what they should talk about.

"I suppose we begin with whatever one talks about over coffee," he offered, taking another bite of the vegetable.

"Alright. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an astronomer. As you can see," he pointed to the sky, "why I chose such a location." Clara looked up, briefly admiring the stars, then turned her attention back to the man sitting next to her.

"That's exciting. Definitely much more than being a baker."

Doc shifted his body so he could look at her directly, "Who said being a baker isn't as fascinating as being an astronomer?"

"Um...laws of life?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"I think not. From what I've seen, your cupcakes bring smiles to those who dare to eat them," he paused, thinking about his near death experience. He smiled despite the scowl on Clara's face, "and they also feed people whereas I simply study what's above our heads. Your talents are important and fascinating in their own right. Never doubt yourself."

Clara smiled, grateful to know that someone gave her more credit than being a 'simple baker.'

"How old are you?"

"Ah..." Doc hummed as if it were he asking himself that question. "I actually stopped counting a long time ago. Would it be too dangerous to ask how old you are?"

Clara raised a sassy eyebrow. "Hasn't anyone ever told you never to ask a lady her age?" she chided, her voice teasing. "It's impolite."

"I'm grateful I wasn't slapped this time," Doc let out a relieved sigh. He leaned in as if he were telling her classified information, "I like to live on the wild side," he whispered.

Clara rolled her eyes. "Where are you from?"

The older man tapped his finger along the coffee cup, the brew swirling around with each thump. "From around. I'm a bit away from home."

"A mysterious man, you are."

"As I said, I like to live on the wild side," he reiterated with a wink. Clara responded with a sarcastic smile. "And you?"

"I live in the area. Actually, my flat isn't far from here. Takes a couple of minutes to get there." the baker took a deep breath and clapped her hands. "So, tell me about these stars; constellations, stories."

"Sure," Doc agreed. Clara watched as he dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a coin. "Choose, heads or tails—heads for Altair and Vega, or tails for Andromeda."

"Heads!"

Doc flipped the 10p in the air; it landed in the palm of his hand, which he then slapped across the back of his other. "Altair and Vega it is." He laid down on the blanket, motioning for Clara to do the same. Apparently, she hadn't laid down close enough, for he scooted over to her so they laid shoulder to shoulder. Doc lifted a finger to the night sky.

"It's best seen in the summer, but that over there in the northern sky is the constellation of Aquila," he said, tracing a pattern with his finger. "It represents the eagle that carried Zeus's thunderbolts." Doc redirected his attention to a certain star, "do you see that one?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't see it," she confessed, slightly embarrassed that she was unable to follow his line of sight. Doc took her hand in his and pointed it at the brightest star in the constellation.

"That is the alpha star, Altair. There's a story, but let's look at another constellation first." Doc guided her hand to a pattern that was much more visible during the autumn season. "This is Lyra, representing an eagle or vulture carrying a lyre." He moved their hands to point at one end of the constellation. "This star is Vega. It is the brightest star in the constellation and also one of the brightest in the night sky." Doc let go of her hand and turned his head to the side to look at her.

Oswald rolled onto her side to meet his gaze, pillowing her face on her hands. "They're very beautiful," she muttered, receiving a smile from Doc as a response. "Now tell me the story."

"The general story is based off of the Chinese folklore 'The Weaver Girl and the Cowherd'. It is a tale between two lovers —the weaver girl, Vega and the cowherd, Altair. Each of their families felt that they distracted one another from their duties, thus forbidding their love and banishing them on opposite sides of the river—the Milky Way." Doc flashed a small, sad smile, "Once a year, on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month, magpies form a bridge over the river to reunite the lovers for one day and one night," he added, concluding the story.

"That is either tragically romantic, or depressing," Clara quietly interjected, her brows furrowed in contemplation.

"I think it's tragically romantic," the astronomer chimed, his words whimsical and delicate.

"You're a hopeless romantic?"

The man's cheeks dusted a fine shade of pink. "Maybe a bit."

The wind picked up a gentle wave, tossing and scattering autumn leaves along the ground; a red and orange leaf landed on Doc's messy blonde hair. Without thinking, Clara reached over and plucked the leaf from behind his ear, twirling it by the stem between her fingers.

"There's nothing wrong with that," she assured the man. "We all have find something romantic, yeah?" Clara flicked the leaf, letting the wind carry it away.

"What do you find romantic, if I may ask?"

"Hmm," Clara let out a soft sigh. "I love simple things: getting ice cream, walking through a park, anything playful and full of laughs. Even just laying here talking about tragic love stories about the stars is romantic," she muttered, fully aware of what she said and the painful blush spreading in her cheeks. "Forget I said that last bit."

"Forget what?" The blond asked, his smirk charming and playful, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Clara flopped over onto her back, "tell me some more stories."

"Mind you, they aren't always the romantic kind," he reminded her.

"That's alright," she responded, grabbing his hand in hers, pointing them to the sky. "Talk!"

Doc cleared his throat, his usually shy demeanor resurfacing as a blush when Clara enthusiastically grabbed his hand. He was unsure as to why, but the young woman seemed to enjoy his presence.

Once again, he guided her hand to trace out the constellations, telling her the tales of Andromeda, who was stripped and chained to a rock, later saved by and married to Perseus and eventually became the great grandmother of Hercules; Artemis, goddess of the hunt and protector of children and women; some stories were beautiful and some were not.

Time whizzed by while he recounted numerous tales amongst the stars. To Clara's surprising disappointment, the hours had gone by too fast and she found herself wishing for time to stop. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The evening had to come to an end.

The two of them prepared to leave: one folded the blanket while the other put away the coffee and snacks. They stood and looked at one another.

"May I escort you home, Winny?" Doc held out his arm for Oswald to take.

"Why on earth are you calling me 'Winny'," she asked, looping her arm around his by clasping her hands together.

"As I recall, your name is Clara Oswin Oswald. I believe 'Winny' would be suitable, don't you agree?" he promoted as they walked down the grassy hill, stepping on dead leaves in their travel.

"No," she firmly stated, but ate her own words with a playful roll her eyes.

Doc smirked, "well, you are forever Winny in my mind."

"Ugh!" Clara dramatically moaned. "Fine. As long as it doesn't catch on," she warned.

"I'll make sure it doesn't," he promised, crossing his fingers over his heart. "Now! Which way is homeward bound?"

Time passed in comfortable silence, only the sound of cars and the crunch of leaves in the air. After minutes of walking along pavement, past shops, and various homes, the two finally stopped at Clara's door. Doc turned to her and smiled.

"It's been a wonderful evening," he said, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss on the knuckles.

"It really was. Thank you for letting me make everything up to you," Clara replied. She popped up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, Winny." Doc winked as she rolled her eyes. He waved and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Clara called after him, "Will you be coming back to the shop?"

Doc turned around, walking backwards as he shouted, "Maybe, why don't you flip for it?" He waved again before slightly jogging away.

Clara walked into her flat, closing and locking the door behind her. She slumped against it, grinning like a fool.

The young woman took his advice, dug into her pocket for a coin and flipped for it.


	5. We love the things we love for what they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“We love the things we love for what they are.”_ \- Robert Frost, _Hyla Brook_

**5 weeks ago**

In front of the young woman stood a tall man with red hair and bright green eyes, dancing on his toes—no, fan-girling—in front of her. As Clara told him about her date...coffee?...no...date with Doc, Max's enthusiasm flew to the roof. Clara hoped he wouldn't pass out on her; she needed her co-worker. Apparently her "beautiful night under the stars" was much more important than working, let alone being in front of the shop for all to watch his reaction.

"Honey, that is so romantic," he squealed. The shrill sound of his voice drew the attention of the customers sitting at the café tables. Luckily, the young woman was able to duck behind the display cases where she was currently restocking the cupcakes.

"Yes, it was. Now can we talk about something else?" Oswald asked over her shoulder.

Max dramatically rolled his eyes, hands on his hips, and huffed, "I need more details!"

The brunette closed the sliding display case door and turned to her friend. "I didn't think I would, but I did enjoy the date. It was simple, nothing flashy like going to a business dinner with Jason. That's crazy, yeah?"

"Definitely not," Max stated. His smile was triumphant and smug. "Do you want to see him again?"

"Yes..." Clara sighed, surprised by the admission. "But I have to wait for him to come back to the shop."

"He'd be crazy not to, sweetie. If not, he'll have me to deal with," Max slightly growled, flexing his arms in a manly way. He put his arms down and grinned, but the smile transitioned into a frown when he looked up at the door.

Clara laughed and started to reply, but the look on her friend's face stopped her. "Max—"

"Hello, Clara," a familiar, tenor voice spoke behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin, but she managed to maintain control. Clara bit her lip. Why was he here? She turned around and smiled the most fake smile in the world; it was award winning.

"Hey, Jason," Clara greeted him. She could feel Max's green eyes throwing daggers over her head. Thankfully he kept silence. "Is there something I can get for you today?"

"You already know what I like," he pointed out, his tone cheeky, his smile bright.

"Right," she reluctantly agreed. She walked over to the desserts and pulled out a red velvet cupcake topped with cream cheese frosting, donned with crumbles of red velvet. The baker grabbed one of the little boxes and gently placed the treat inside; she didn't want to ruin it, despite who the customer was. She returned to the counter and slid the box towards Jason. "Here you go."

"Thanks," replied her former lover. He dug out some money and placed it in her palm. She went to pull her hand away, but Jason didn't let go. To her dismay, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles. "See ya later, Clara." Jason smiled, waving over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

"Oh no, he didn't!" Max exclaimed. He grabbed his friend's shoulders and whipped her around. His eyes scanned her face, looking at the distress behind her brown eyes. "Are you alright?"

Clara's eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on not letting her emotions get ahead of her. "Let's get back to work, yeah?"

After the encounter with her ex, the rest of the work day dragged on with no end in sight. Clara's mind was muddled with thoughts about Rachel and Jason. She had no clue as to why they both magically appeared. Most likely they were trying to torture her. She thought making Jason jealous would be some sort of revenge, but she no longer cared about that. Clara wanted them out of her life.

______________________________

_Clara looked into the full length mirror staring at her reflection. She was wearing a red three-quartered sleeve A-line dress, the sleeves and top made from lace material. The bottom of the skirt fell just below her knees. On her feet were a pair of black heels. Clara did a quick twirl, loving the way the dress fanned out as she did so._

_She went to sit down in front of her vanity to finish her ensemble. Clara picked out her mother's favorite necklace: white pearls. As she was putting in a pair of earrings she thought would complete the outfit, Jason walked into their room. He looked at her and scowled._

_"What are you wearing?"_

_Clara looked down at her outfit, "a dress?"_

_Jason rolled his eyes. "We're going to a business dinner. A dress such as that is plain and shouts 'ordinary'. You can't expect me to show up with you wearing something like that," he scoffed, not once pausing to notice the hurt look on Clara's face._

_He stomped over to their closet and began rustling through its contents. "Where is the dress I had Rachel pick up for you? The black one?"_

_"I don't like the way it looks on me. I'm not going to make myself uncomfortable."_

_Jason turned around and walked out of their bedroom. She trailed after him as he marched down the hall towards the front door of their flat. He took one glance at her._

_"I rather you stay behind this evening. I refuse to be embarrassed," he chided over his shoulder._

______________________________

Unfortunately for Clara, it was going to be an extremely long couple of days.

The next afternoon, Jason returned. Like the day before, he made small talk which he attempted to extend into an actual conversation while he ordered his favorite cupcake. With the help of Max, Clara managed to avoid speaking with her ex-boyfriend for more than a couple of sentences. She knew he was trying to pry into her life; she refused to give any sort of access. Thankfully, Jason depart without any sort of information about the young woman he left.

To her dismay, Jason returned the following day. The man sauntered up to the register and placed a hand on the counter and yet again, tried to strike up a conversation. The baker put on a fake smile and summoned a cheerful, confident voice.

"Welcome back," she said, forcing herself to polite.

"Hello, Cupcake," replied Jason, smiling at the clever use of the little nickname he bestowed upon Clara when they first began dating. "Do you have any of my favorite left?"

Clara's grin froze on her face at his little nickname surprise, but it quickly unthawed; she heard Max tsk behind her while he was fixing a beverage. Luckily, she had been keeping his dessert in a little to-go box at hand in order to heighten the chances of shutting down his small talk and kick him out of the shop as soon as possible.

"Here you go." Maintaining her smile, she pushed the little box across the counter.

"Thanks." Jason stood there staring at her as if he expected her to say more. "So how are you doing today?" he asked, urging her to speak.

"I'm fine. Just a busy day like always," she answered. The little bell above the door tinkled. Clara quickly looked past the man in front of her and inwardly left out a sigh of relief: it was Doc. Jason glanced over his shoulder to locate what she was looking at. When he looked back at the young woman and scowled when he saw her smiling.

"What are you doing to—" he started, but was quickly cut off by Clara.

"Max, can you finish up Jason's order?" she asked as she turned around. Max looked at her and the subtle head gesture pointing towards the door. He gave her a smile and thumbs up. Clara excused herself from Jason and quickly walked around the corner.

Clara walked towards Doc where he sat near the window and pulled out the chair opposite of him, plopping down. His head was tilted down as he continued to read the book in front of him, only acknowledging her presence with an upward glance.

"Hey, stranger. Where have you been?" she asked, rubbing her hand through his blond hair, effectively messing it up as she did so.

Without looking up from his book he muttered, "Oh look, it's Winny. The woman whom I've been waiting three days by the phone for, desperately waiting for a call." He looked up with her and squinted, thoughtful, "It is three days, correct? After three days with no word after a wonderful evening one should expect to never see the person again?...The rules of dating were so much simpler back in my day."

"Hey! We never exchanged numbers. I'm the one who's been waiting," she scolded him, her voice light. Clara leaned in closer, "when was your day exactly?"

Doc copied the motion, leaning towards her, "That's on a need to know basis," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

The blond snapped his book closed and put his elbows on top of it, his chin in his hands. "An old man needs to have a bit of mystery about himself. How else would else would he get a woman to leave him waiting by the phone?"

"Oh shut up!" she laughed, smacking him on the arm. Doc winced and rubbed his wound, cradling it as if it were a mortal blow.

At the counter, Jason watched Oswald laugh and smile with the man across from her. In his own opinion, he was too old for her and wondered why she would go for someone such as him. Leaning over to Max, he voiced his curiosity, "Who is Clara sitting with?"

Max, who loved to stir up trouble, took the opportunity to press the lawyer's buttons. "That's Clara's new beau," he answered, holding back a laugh.

"What would she want from someone like him? He looks like he's at least ten years older than her." Jason scoffed, looking back at Max.

"Who cares? My girl is _finally_ happy," answered the redhead.

Jason dug out money from his pocket and put it in Max's outstretched hand. "Well, nice seeing you again. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow," he added. Jason turned around and strolled towards the exit. Before opening the door, he tried to flag down Clara; she paid little to no mind to his exit—she was too busy talking to the man across from her. With an annoyed scowl, Jason left.

"Are you free today?" Clara asked. She failed to notice that her ex had left the shop; he completed slipped her thoughts.

"As a matter-of-fact, I am indeed free," replied Doc, nodding his head.

"Hmm...give me a sec. I'll be right back." Clara hopped up from the chair and walked back over to her co-worker. The shop was empty during this time of day, so she felt no need to go behind the register. "Hey!" she called from the other side of the counter. Max glanced over his shoulder as he was making a cup of tea for himself.

"Yes?" he answered as he turned around.

"Do you think you could mind the shop?" Clara bit her lip, barely suppressing her smile.

Max's eyes darted between her excited face and an equal expression on Doc's. "Go on, honey. I can finish up the day."

"Thanks, love!" Clara grabbed her jacket and casually jogged back to the table, heels clicking on the floor. "Alright, let's go," she said once she made it to the table. Doc looked up at her and smiled.

"Where to?"

"Hmm...in the mood for ice cream?" she asked, putting on her coat and gloves.

"Ice cream it is," the man agreed. Doc put his book away and stood up to leave with Clara. Doc held out his arm for the brunette to take hold. The bell tinkled as the exited the bakery.

The pair sped down the street to the nearest ice cream parlor, anxious to escape the cold air if only for a moment. While the frozen dessert wouldn't aid in their need for warmth, it was bound to satisfy Clara's sudden craving for it.

Removing her gloves, she shoved them in the pockets of her coat as she approached the menu on the wall, studying it before she made a decision: pistachio ice cream. Doc, himself, was occupied browsing the various flavors as well.

"Know what you're gonna have?"

"Hmm...I'm trying to decide between raspberry and vanilla bean," answered Doc, weighing out his options.

Having already decided on a flavor, Clara walked up to the counter and smiled at the girl behind the register. "Can I have one pistachio cone, please?" She turned back to Doc, "have you picked one?"

"Nope," he responded, popping the 'p' as he spoke. Not unsurprising to Clara at this point, she watched as the blond fetched another coin.

"Heads for raspberry, and tails for vanilla bean," Doc prompted, waiting for the baker to answer.

"Tails!" the baker was acutely aware of the girl behind the counter, tempted to laugh at the confused expression on her face.

Doc flipped the coin. "Alas, 'heads'," he announced, approaching the girl to order a raspberry cone.

"You're a bit weird, you know that, right?" Clara remarked as the employee prepared their order.

"Are you sure I'm the one who's odd?" he retorted, taking their cones when the girl returned, nodding his head in thanks.

"Definitely." Clara quickly paid the employee before Doc had the chance to interfere—she had insisted on paying, whereas he refused to let such a thing happen. She smirked at the glare on his face when he handed her the pistachio ice cream cone.

Like a true gentleman, Doc held the door open for Clara to exit the shop first, following close behind her. As they strolled side by side down the street, the younger of the two took a bite of ice cream, hissing at the cold irritating her teeth.

"Why do you do that?" She took another bite waiting for him to answer. The second bite had been too big, causing her to squint in pain. "Ow," she muttered, placing a hand on her head.

Doc reached over and began rubbing warmth back into her skull, lightly laughing at her obvious discomfort. She batted his hands away in order to prevent him from further messing up her hair. "Do what?"

Clara left out a little huff as she pushed her hair behind her ear with one hand, her frozen treat in the other. "Flip coins."

"Ah." He took a careful bite as they walked, purposefully taking his time to answer, "I can be pretty indecisive, so I'll flip a coin and take what may come from such a chance, good or bad."

"You really do live on the wild side," she concluded. Before she could take another bite of her dessert, the toe of her shoe caught a broken piece of the sidewalk, forcing her to stumble; nose forcefully dipping into the cone. To add insult to injury, Doc couldn't help but laugh when she looked up at him, offering the least bit of sympathy despite her glare.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, titling Clara's chin up so he could clean the mess from her face with a napkin using his free hand.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, surprised that she was letting him help.

"You do look quite adorable, Winny. I could always just leave you here," he pointed out, his tone serious yet his demeanor playful.

"You wouldn't dare," she growled.

Her pressing words encouraged him to step back and turn to walk down the street, offering no more than a casual wave before he called over his shoulder. "Thank you for the ice cream, Winny," he smiled, leaving Clara to fend for herself.

"Get back here!" Shocked, her feet broke into a sprint to run after him—the remainder of her ice cream falling victim to the sidewalk.

The man continued forward, but eventually stopped to allow her to catch up. "Oh alright," he surrendered, fearful of the consequences for his actions. Luckily, he suffered a poke to the chest which he found far more preferable than a smack to the arm.

"Jerk!"

Doc grinned, wiping away the rest of the ice cream from her face with the napkin. "Good as new," he declared, tucking a few strands of brown hair behind her ear. Without warning, Doc tilted her chin upright, angling her mouth in such a way. Her eyes instinctively fell shut, but before he could connect their lips in a kiss, the call of her name was heard in the distance.

"Clara!" the voice shouted, interrupting what should have been. Oswald clenched her eyes, silently cursing whoever was calling for her. She turned toward the source when her name was called again and paled. it was Jason.

"Oh my god," she groaned as her ex approached them.

Jason jogged up to Clara, panting once he came to a stop. "I've been looking for you."

"What do you want, Jason?" Clara asked, aware of Doc's eyes on her.

Her ex glanced over to Doc, who stood there quietly. "I'm Jason," he said, holding out his hand.

"Doc," he replied, firmly and skeptically shaking Jason's hand.

Jason returned his gaze to the woman and smiled, "I wanted to talk to you."

"Alright, then. Talk." She put a hand on her hip, using the other to motion for him to continue.

"I miss you."

Her eyes shot to the sky, threatening to go higher if it were possible. "You miss me?"

"I've been thinking about the time we had together and it made me realize how much I miss having you in my life," Jason responded, his feet shuffling. "Things could be different this time around. We can do everything you'd like. You can have whatever you want," he added, shamelessly pitching his case as if Doc wasn't standing there.

"You said anything I want, yeah?" Clara glanced over to Doc. His usually flirtatious smile tugged into a frown, his eyes forlorn. She returned her gaze to the man standing before her.

"Anything," Jason reiterated, a tiny trickle of hope in his voice since Clara appeared to be truly considering his proposal.

"Then I'll take what I want," she stated and held out her hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "C'mon."


	6. He whispered he loved me, and the storm in me fell silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"He whispered he loved me, and the storm in me fell silent."_ \- Jenn Satsune, _satsune.tumblr.com IG/Twitter @jennsatsune_

**Present Day**

Clara quietly laughed as she listened to Doc murmur in her ear. She stared into his blue eyes once their gazes reconnected. A smile spread across her face as he held her there in their dance's dip.

"Hmm...how about tails?" Clara surmised. Doc gently pulled her close to his body and set her upright, twirling her one last time before he let go of her hand.

As per usual, the man searched for a coin in his coat pocket. He pulled out a few, filtering through them until he find just the right one for the occasion. Having changed her mind, Oswald held out her hand.

"How about we let me have a go this time," she urged, beckoning for the coin. A small pout formed on Doc's lips as he handed over the goods. Clara pinched the 10p between her thumb and index finger, making sure it was placed correctly before she gave the order. "Heads or tails?"

Doc furrowed his brow in thought. "Let's go with heads," he decided.

The young woman flicked the coin in the air, but instead of catching it in her palm, she let it fall to the ground by her shoes. Doc began to lower his gaze to find out which side it landed on, but Clara stopped him. He looked back up to find her grinning happily. She pressed up close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Kiss me, Old Man," Clara whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The End**


End file.
